The Painter of Time by O'Connell Matthew

Author:O'Connell, Matthew [O'Connell, Matthew]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: Mystery, Fiction
ISBN: 9780996669337
Amazon: 0996669337
Goodreads: 28384618
Publisher: Matthew O'Connell
Published: 2015-11-10T08:00:00+00:00

Chapter 27

As Anthony mentioned, it was about a twenty-minute walk from The Carlyle to his apartment building. They carried on superficial chitchat on the way. Mackenzie was too nervous to come up with anything remotely intelligent or interesting to say. She had a tendency to just chatter incessantly when she was nervous, so she forced herself to be quiet. The doorman was there to greet them.

“Beautiful evening, Mr. Bataglia.” He opened the doors for them, nodding to Mackenzie as well.

“Yes, indeed it is Jack. Thank God it has cooled down a bit. Thank you.” They walked through the plush hallway to the elevators. They rode up to the twentieth floor and arrived at the door of his apartment. “This is the place,” he said punching in the combination on the electronic keypad. “I did not know that I would have company, so I cannot guarantee that the apartment is in any shape for entertaining.” He pushed open the door and they made their way inside.

He took off his shoes and calmly gestured to her. “The New York winters are terrible on my rugs, so I make it a habit to never wear shoes inside, even in summer. I hope you do not mind.”

“Not at all. Makes a lot of sense. I did the same thing in my apartment in college. My dad says the dirt builds character in the carpet so I got out of the habit of taking them off when I moved back in.”

Stunning! That was the first word that came to her head as she entered the apartment. It was not only spotless but everything, the wall sconces, the wood paneling, the floor and the carpets, were immaculate. If someone had told her to design the perfect Central Park apartment she couldn’t have done better than this, and would have been hard pressed to even come close.

Would you like a glass of wine, or perhaps something a bit stronger?” he asked as he led her down the hallway. He paused in front of an in-wall Eurocave wine refrigerator with a sleek black glass front. The refrigerator sat beside a small recessed bar.

“A glass of wine would be great.” Keep a clear head. You can’t afford to get drunk while you’re in his apartment. You’re here for a reason. She could almost hear her father talking to her, telling her to stay focused on the task at hand.

“I’m thinking that an Argentinean Malbec would be nice.” He pulled a bottle from the refrigerator and expertly opened it with the ease of a sommelier.

“I don’t think I’ve ever had Malbec before,” she replied, watching him work. She was happy to see that the wine was from a previously unopened bottle. At least I won’t be drugged on my first glass. “But as you have already discerned, I’m open minded,” she added.

“Yes, I remember. Cautiously adventurous.” He poured them each a large, crystal glass. “Cheers. I hope you like it.”

She took a sip. It was round and rich and very flavorful.

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